Transgender Pioneers: Dr. James Barry and Angela Clayton

Gabrielle Birchak/ March 11, 2025/ Early Modern History, Modern History

Though it is Women’s His­to­ry Month today, I’m writ­ing about two incred­i­ble trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als. First, Dr. James Bar­ry is his­tor­i­cal­ly sig­nif­i­cant because of his con­tri­bu­tions to med­i­cine and courage in liv­ing as a gen­der-non­con­form­ing indi­vid­ual dur­ing the eigh­teenth and nine­teenth cen­turies. Then, Angela Clay­ton, a trans­gen­der woman, was a tes­ta­ment to the pow­er of courage, bril­liance, and the unwa­ver­ing pur­suit of knowl­edge. Bar­ry was an eigh­teenth-cen­tu­ry physi­cian, and Clay­ton was a nuclear physi­cist. Though they were cen­turies apart, their sto­ries are sim­i­lar in that they had the courage to be their truest self and flour­ished in their lives and careers.

DR. JAMES BARRY

Barry’s sto­ry defies con­ven­tion­al his­tor­i­cal nar­ra­tives, offer­ing a unique lens to under­stand the inter­sec­tion of iden­ti­ty, gen­der, and profession. 

Paint­ing of Dr. James Bar­ry — By Unknown author — http://fred-de-vries.blogspot.com/2016/08/review-dr-james-barry-woman-ahead-of.html from Muse­um Africa, Johan­nes­burg, Pub­lic Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=87253849

Dr. James Bar­ry was born in 1789 in Lon­don, Eng­land, and his life remains one of the most com­pelling and enig­mat­ic sto­ries in the his­to­ry of med­i­cine. Assigned female at birth, Bar­ry lived most of his life as a man, a fact only revealed after his death. He is now regard­ed as one of the first open­ly trans indi­vid­u­als in record­ed his­to­ry. How­ev­er, his gen­der iden­ti­ty was hid­den from the pub­lic dur­ing his life­time. To under­stand Barry’s sig­nif­i­cance, we must look at the unique and brave way he nav­i­gat­ed his career in an era when such iden­ti­ties were ille­gal and spurned.

It is sur­mised that Bar­ry was born between the years 1789 and 1799. Sur­geon and writer Her­cules Michael du Preez wrote an arti­cle about Bar­ry for the South African Med­ical Jour­nal. In it, he writes that Bar­ry was born to Jere­mi­ah and Mary Anne Bulk­ley, who named her Mar­garet Anne. Bar­ry had a sib­ling named Mary Ann Bulk­ley, a famous Irish artist, and a London’s Roy­al Acad­e­my pro­fes­sor. There is also a record of a third child, Juliana Bulk­ley. It is believed that this third child was actu­al­ly Barry’s daugh­ter and the result of a child­hood sex­u­al assault because, upon Barry’s death, they found that he had stretch marks from an ear­li­er pregnancy.

It is also spec­u­lat­ed that Barry’s moth­er had an affair with anoth­er man, Juliana’s father. This would make sense because, in 1804, Bar­ry and his moth­er moved to Lon­don after being kicked out of the house. Mary Ann, Barry’s moth­er, went to her broth­er, Pro­fes­sor James Bar­ry, for help, who also reject­ed them. Two years lat­er, her broth­er died, and she received a com­fort­able inher­i­tance. This allowed her and Bar­ry to live secure­ly. Regard­less, Bar­ry tried, to no avail, to gar­ner work as a tutor. Bar­ry and his mom gar­nered the friend­ship of many of his uncle’s friends, who were open-mind­ed and sup­port­ed Barry’s choice to live as a man. As a result, they helped Bar­ry in his appli­ca­tion to The Uni­ver­si­ty of Edin­burgh, which he attend­ed as James Bar­ry in 1809. At the uni­ver­si­ty, he was acknowl­edged and known as the nephew of the late James Bar­ry RA.

The deter­mi­na­tion of his uncle’s friends to advo­cate for and sup­port Barry’s deci­sion speaks vol­umes about two things. First, they accept­ed his deci­sion. It was not dis­missed or detest­ed. It was sim­ply a choice that some­body made that a group of indi­vid­u­als uncon­di­tion­al­ly accept­ed, unlike today, where we live in a cli­mate where the trans­gen­der com­mu­ni­ty is called out, pub­licly detest­ed, and, worse yet, treat­ed with vit­ri­ol. But this also speaks vol­umes about the impor­tance of advo­cat­ing for trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als. Even today, when the sui­cide rate for trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als is so high, stud­ies show that when an indi­vid­ual tran­si­tions and is sur­round­ed by loved ones who sup­port their deci­sion and love them uncon­di­tion­al­ly, this low­ers the rate of sui­cide by fifty per­cent. That is sig­nif­i­cant. And what’s also inter­est­ing is that this took place in the eigh­teenth and ear­ly nine­teenth cen­turies. This shows that trans indi­vid­u­als have always been around and will always be around. Also, this shows that even in an era that was con­sid­ered to be con­ser­v­a­tive, many lib­er­al indi­vid­u­als sup­port­ed trans­gen­der communities.

When Bar­ry first began attend­ing the uni­ver­si­ty, due to his voice and del­i­cate fea­tures, the admin­is­tra­tion sus­pect­ed that Bar­ry was a young boy who hadn’t reached puber­ty. The admin­is­tra­tion tried to block Barry’s appli­ca­tion for final exam­i­na­tions. But, a friend of the deceased uncle, the Earl of Buchan, con­vinced the admin­is­tra­tion to let Bar­ry qual­i­fy as a doc­tor. Bar­ry received his MD in 1812.

In 1813, Bar­ry was appoint­ed as an assis­tant sur­geon in the British Army after com­plet­ing his med­ical edu­ca­tion. This was a mon­u­men­tal step for any med­ical pro­fes­sion­al, par­tic­u­lar­ly for some­one in Barry’s posi­tion. He would spend much of his career trav­el­ing with the army, work­ing in places such as Mal­ta, South Africa, and the Caribbean. Barry’s abil­i­ty to nav­i­gate such a career in the mil­i­tary, a tra­di­tion­al­ly male-dom­i­nat­ed space, demon­strates his remark­able skill and resource­ful­ness. His rep­u­ta­tion as a high­ly com­pe­tent sur­geon quick­ly spread, and he became known for per­form­ing com­plex oper­a­tions with skill and precision.

One of Dr. Barry’s most famous med­ical con­tri­bu­tions was his work with the first suc­cess­ful cesare­an sec­tion. In 1826, while sta­tioned in the British colony of Cape Colony (mod­ern-day South Africa), Bar­ry per­formed an emer­gency cesare­an sec­tion on a woman who had been in labor for sev­er­al days. Both the moth­er and child sur­vived, which was a remark­able feat at a time when cesare­an sec­tions were often fatal. This surgery and oth­er med­ical tech­nique advance­ments cement­ed Barry’s lega­cy as an extra­or­di­nary surgeon.

But Barry’s med­ical exper­tise went far beyond just surgery. He was known for his detailed diag­noses and his inno­v­a­tive approach to treat­ment. In a time when med­ical knowl­edge was still devel­op­ing, and many prac­tices were rudi­men­ta­ry at best, Bar­ry made notable strides in improv­ing hos­pi­tal hygiene and advo­cat­ing for prop­er san­i­ta­tion. He also served as a staunch crit­ic of the treat­ment of women, espe­cial­ly when it came to their health care. He advo­cat­ed for the bet­ter treat­ment of women in med­ical set­tings, a rev­o­lu­tion­ary stance in the ear­ly nine­teenth cen­tu­ry. Addi­tion­al­ly, Bar­ry fought to improve the san­i­tary con­di­tions of the sol­diers and mar­gin­al­ized groups. He often demand­ed reforms and upgrades in uncon­ven­tion­al ways, lead­ing to demo­tions for Barry.

Still, Barry’s career thrived as he moved between mil­i­tary posts, earn­ing pro­mo­tions and acco­lades for his ser­vice. He rose to the rank of Inspec­tor Gen­er­al of Hos­pi­tals in Cana­da in 1857, an essen­tial posi­tion in the British Army. Through­out his life, Bar­ry nev­er once revealed his true gen­der iden­ti­ty to his col­leagues or the pub­lic. He was metic­u­lous to con­trol and main­tain the per­sona of a man.

Dr. Bar­ry with his dog, Psy­che, and an unknown atten­dant, 1862, Jamaica — CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35997307

Bar­ry was pro­gres­sive and didn’t drink or eat meat. He didn’t have many rela­tion­ships, but he loved his dog named, Psy­che. What a great name! In 1865, Dr. Bar­ry died from dysen­tery in Lon­don. When his body was pre­pared for bur­ial, it was revealed that he had female bio­log­i­cal characteristics.

In the con­text of mod­ern trans­gen­der rights and vis­i­bil­i­ty, Dr. James Bar­ry is often cit­ed as one of the ear­li­est fig­ures whose life offers a win­dow into the lived expe­ri­ences of trans indi­vid­u­als. Though Barry’s sto­ry remained hid­den for many years, his lega­cy inspires and res­onates today, espe­cial­ly among trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als. Despite the over­whelm­ing chal­lenges, his courage in liv­ing as his authen­tic self serves as a reminder of the pow­er of deter­mi­na­tion and the impor­tance of chal­leng­ing soci­etal norms. Barry’s life shows us that gen­der iden­ti­ty is not a new con­cept but some­thing that has always exist­ed, even if it wasn’t always rec­og­nized or under­stood. His courage to live authen­ti­cal­ly, despite the social pres­sures of his time, remains a tes­ta­ment to the resilience of the human spir­it. His jour­ney through the med­ical pro­fes­sion and his role as a trail­blaz­er for trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als in med­i­cine make his sto­ry inspir­ing, par­tic­u­lar­ly for those who face chal­lenges in achiev­ing their goals due to soci­etal expectations.

Barry’s con­tri­bu­tions to med­i­cine, includ­ing his sur­gi­cal skills, advo­ca­cy for bet­ter treat­ment of women, and efforts to improve hos­pi­tal hygiene, are endur­ing parts of his legacy.

Dr. James Barry’s sto­ry pro­vides a fas­ci­nat­ing lens into the ear­ly his­to­ry of trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als in med­i­cine and how they nav­i­gate a world that was, and still is, often hos­tile to their iden­ti­ties. Barry’s ground­break­ing con­tri­bu­tions to surgery and med­i­cine make him an admirable fig­ure whose sto­ry deserves to be remem­bered and con­sid­ered as we strive to build equi­ty for trans­gen­der communities.

The fol­low­ing resources go into great detail about Dr. James Barry’s life. Though I do not sub­scribe to refer­ring to Dr. Bar­ry as a woman, the book by de Preez and Dron­field is rich with great detail. The book by North will be released soon.


The fol­low­ing resources go into great details about Dr. James Barry’s life. Though I do not sub­scribe to the method of refer­ring to Dr. Bar­ry as a woman, the book by de Preez and Dron­field is rich with great detail. The book by North will be released soon.

Books

Dr James Bar­ry: A Woman Ahead of Her TimeMichael du Preez & Jere­my Dron­field (2016)

James Bar­ry: The Woman Who Fooled the WorldDr. Pol­ly North (Upcom­ing)

The Secret Life of Dr. James Bar­ry: Vic­to­ri­an England’s Most Emi­nent Sur­geonRachel Holmes (2002)

Aca­d­e­m­ic Papers

“Dr James Bar­ry (1789–1865): The Edin­burgh Years”Iain Mac­in­tyre, Jour­nal of the Roy­al Col­lege of Physi­cians of Edin­burgh (2008)

“Dr James Bar­ry: The Mys­tery Behind the Man”– Var­i­ous authors in his­tor­i­cal and med­ical journals


ANGELA CLAYTON

Angela Clay­ton was an extra­or­di­nary nuclear physi­cist who broke bar­ri­ers in her sci­en­tif­ic field and trans­gen­der rights. She was born in 1959 in the Unit­ed King­dom. Angela’s life was defined by her pio­neer­ing work in health physics, specif­i­cal­ly in radi­a­tion pro­tec­tion and nuclear safe­ty. How­ev­er, what tru­ly sets her apart is the fact that she did all of this while liv­ing open­ly as a trans­gen­der woman dur­ing a time when such a deci­sion could have ruined a career in both sci­ence and pub­lic life.

But before we dive into Angela’s incred­i­ble jour­ney and accom­plish­ments, let’s take a moment to explore who she was and how her expe­ri­ences shaped her work.

Angela Clay­ton was born in the UK in the mid-twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry when gen­der roles in sci­ence and soci­ety were strict­ly defined. Women, espe­cial­ly in fields like physics, were seen as excep­tions rather than the norm. And for some­one like Angela, who would lat­er tran­si­tion, the bar­ri­ers to suc­cess were even higher.

Angela’s edu­ca­tion in physics was one of the defin­ing ele­ments of her life. As a stu­dent, she showed a deep inter­est in the phys­i­cal sci­ences. She pur­sued a career in nuclear physics, a male-dom­i­nat­ed field at the time. She worked tire­less­ly, excelling in a world that was not only unfa­mil­iar with the idea of women in these fields but also open­ly hos­tile toward them.

By Fletcher­Mall — Template:Own pho­to set, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=74091182

As she advanced in her career, Angela’s per­son­al life began to take on a new chap­ter. She decid­ed to tran­si­tion, an incred­i­bly bold move at the time. It was not just a per­son­al trans­for­ma­tion but a pub­lic one that could have destroyed her career. Yet, Angela’s courage allowed her to live her truth.

Her tran­si­tion made her one of the first open­ly trans­gen­der pro­fes­sion­als in the field of physics. She did this dur­ing an era when such a deci­sion car­ried grave pro­fes­sion­al con­se­quences. But Angela remained unde­terred, con­tin­u­ing her work and gain­ing recog­ni­tion for her exper­tise. This deci­sion would shape her career in sur­pris­ing and pro­found ways, and it became a core part of her journey.

Angela Clayton’s con­tri­bu­tions to nuclear physics were pro­found and high­ly influ­en­tial. Spe­cial­iz­ing in health physics, a branch of physics that focus­es on pro­tect­ing peo­ple and the envi­ron­ment from the harm­ful effects of radi­a­tion, Angela worked to devel­op radi­a­tion shield­ing tech­nolo­gies. These inno­va­tions were crit­i­cal in pre­vent­ing radi­a­tion expo­sure in var­i­ous indus­tries, includ­ing nuclear pow­er plants, med­ical research facil­i­ties, and sci­en­tif­ic exper­i­ments involv­ing radioac­tive materials.

Her work cen­tered on improv­ing the safe­ty pro­to­cols for han­dling radioac­tive mate­ri­als. Through her research, she played a piv­otal role in cre­at­ing bet­ter safe­ty stan­dards for those work­ing in nuclear ener­gy, which ulti­mate­ly helped min­i­mize health risks relat­ed to radi­a­tion exposure.

One of her sig­nif­i­cant con­tri­bu­tions was design­ing and devel­op­ing radi­a­tion shields, mate­ri­als, and struc­tures that effec­tive­ly block or absorb radi­a­tion, pro­tect­ing work­ers and the sur­round­ing envi­ron­ment. Her find­ings were crit­i­cal in help­ing shape the mod­ern stan­dards for radi­a­tion pro­tec­tion that we use today.

But I want to go beyond the path she paved for our future gen­er­a­tions of trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als and sci­ence. I want to talk about the path she paved for future gen­er­a­tions of women in sci­ence and sci­ence in gen­er­al. She was a bril­liant woman.

She worked as the head of Crit­i­cal­i­ty Aafe­ty at the Atom­ic Weapons Estab­lish­ment. Addi­tion­al­ly, she was a chair­per­son of the Unit­ed King­dom Work­ing Par­ty on Crit­i­cal­i­ty. So, she was high­ly involved with safe­ty pro­to­cols relat­ed to atom­ic weapons. But she also worked over­seas In the Unit­ed States. As part of the work­ing group for Amer­i­can Nation­al stan­dards, she was a mem­ber. She also served in an advi­so­ry role for sev­er­al inter­na­tion­al con­fer­ences on nuclear crit­i­cal­i­ty. So, she was pas­sion­ate about the safe­ty pro­to­cols relat­ed to nuclear safe­ty. She also wrote and coau­thored many papers on nuclear crit­i­cal­i­ty safe­ty. She was ful­ly immersed in her work and also took on a mul­ti­tude of roles in safe­ty com­mit­tees and the reac­tor safe­ty pan­el at a WE, which is the atom­ic weapons estab­lish­ment. Her career was excep­tion­al­ly remarkable.

She also worked as an advo­cate for trans­gen­der rights, cam­paign­ing for an orga­ni­za­tion called Press for Change. She went on to serve as their vice pres­i­dent as well. Her fight for equal­i­ty for trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als encour­aged her to take on the role of the first “trans observ­er” to the Unit­ed King­dom Trades Union Con­gress LGBT com­mit­tee. Addi­tion­al­ly, she helped to devel­op and imple­ment the gen­der recog­ni­tion act of 2004.

Her bril­liance pur­sued. In 2005, she Became a Mem­ber of the Order of the British Empire. This was an appoint­ment. This means the British gov­ern­ment award­ed her a very pres­ti­gious hon­our, which rec­og­nized her for her devo­tion to gen­der issues. She immersed her­self in her life­long love of astron­o­my and, in April 2009, obtained a law degree.

Unfor­tu­nate­ly, she had to take an ear­ly retire­ment in March of 2011. She was strug­gling with med­ical com­pli­ca­tions from an old auto­mo­bile acci­dent in 1996.

She not only inspires trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als to live their lives to the fullest extent as trans­gen­der, but she also inspires humans to embrace their best life despite their sit­u­a­tions. And if you look her up, you will see this in her smile. In my opin­ion, she had one of the most beau­ti­ful smiles I’ve ever seen.

Sad­ly, Angela passed away on Jan­u­ary 8, 2014, from pan­cre­ati­tis due to dia­bet­ic med­ica­tion that she was tak­ing. Hers was a tremen­dous life cut too short, and no doubt the world is a tremen­dous­ly bet­ter and safer place because of her.

It’s essen­tial to under­stand the con­text in which Angela Clay­ton was work­ing. The world of sci­ence in the 20th cen­tu­ry, par­tic­u­lar­ly fields like physics and nuclear ener­gy, was dom­i­nat­ed by men. The bar­ri­ers for women were already high, but for trans­gen­der women like Angela, the obsta­cles were even more insurmountable.

Angela’s deci­sion to tran­si­tion and live open­ly as a trans­gen­der woman was ground­break­ing. It was incred­i­bly rare for some­one in her posi­tion to be them­selves open­ly while main­tain­ing a pres­ti­gious and demand­ing career. Yet, Angela’s work spoke for itself. She didn’t allow the chal­lenges of being a trans­gen­der woman in a male-dom­i­nat­ed field to deter her. Instead, she used her exper­tise to advo­cate for safer work­ing con­di­tions and the inclu­sion of diverse voic­es in science.

Angela was not just a sci­en­tist; she was also an activist. As a trans­gen­der woman, she faced the harsh real­i­ties of dis­crim­i­na­tion and exclu­sion. But she chan­neled those expe­ri­ences into advocacy.

In addi­tion to her advo­ca­cy for trans­gen­der rights, Angela used her plat­form to chal­lenge the stig­ma that often accom­pa­nies being trans­gen­der, espe­cial­ly in pro­fes­sion­al and sci­en­tif­ic envi­ron­ments. She didn’t just want equal­i­ty for trans­gen­der people—she want­ed recog­ni­tion, respect, and a voice for those who had been silenced by society’s nar­row view of gender.

Angela Clayton’s lega­cy is one of both sci­en­tif­ic achieve­ment and social change. Through her ground­break­ing work in physics, she helped ensure safer envi­ron­ments for those work­ing with dan­ger­ous mate­ri­als, direct­ly con­tribut­ing to the safe­ty of nuclear facil­i­ties world­wide. How­ev­er, per­haps her most last­ing lega­cy is the path she paved for future gen­er­a­tions of trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als in science.

By liv­ing authen­ti­cal­ly and pur­su­ing her career with pas­sion and exper­tise, Angela proved that gen­der iden­ti­ty should nev­er lim­it one’s con­tri­bu­tions to soci­ety. She demon­strat­ed that the most mean­ing­ful progress often comes from indi­vid­u­als who break the mold, and she helped make the sci­en­tif­ic community—and soci­ety at large—a more inclu­sive space.

Angela Clayton’s life is a tes­ta­ment to the pow­er of resilience, courage, and the unwa­ver­ing pur­suit of knowl­edge. Her work in physics changed the world, and her advo­ca­cy for trans­gen­der rights con­tin­ues to inspire count­less individuals.

Though sep­a­rat­ed by time and cir­cum­stance, Dr. James Bar­ry and Angela Clay­ton share an endur­ing lega­cy defined by bril­liance, resilience, and an unwa­ver­ing com­mit­ment to authen­tic­i­ty in the face of over­whelm­ing soci­etal obsta­cles. Both demon­strat­ed immense courage in tran­si­tion­ing: Bar­ry in a time when such a deci­sion was unheard of and Clay­ton in a world that was hos­tile to her truth. As a pio­neer­ing sur­geon and ground­break­ing nuclear physi­cist, they not only reshaped their respec­tive fields but also defied the expec­ta­tions of a soci­ety that sought to dic­tate who they could be. Their tran­si­tions were acts of pro­found brav­ery, embrac­ing who they tru­ly were despite the risks and chal­lenges. These sto­ries remind us of the crit­i­cal impor­tance of allow­ing indi­vid­u­als to live as their authen­tic selves. When soci­ety allows peo­ple to express their true iden­ti­ty, they are empow­ered to con­tribute their best to the world—both in sci­ence and beyond. Bar­ry and Clayton’s lives show us that sci­en­tif­ic progress is dri­ven by intel­lect and the courage to break down bar­ri­ers and live authen­ti­cal­ly. Their sto­ries call us to build a future where no one has to choose between their iden­ti­ty and their pas­sion, where diver­si­ty is not just accept­ed but cel­e­brat­ed, and where sci­ence thrives because of our dif­fer­ences, not despite them.

🏛 Links & Resources:

Inter­na­tion­al LGBTQ+ Rights Organizations:

·         Amnesty Inter­na­tion­al — https://www.amnesty.org/en/what-we-do/discrimination/lgbt-rights/ 

·         Human Rights Watch — https://www.hrw.org/topic/lgbt-rights 

·         Out­Right Action Inter­na­tion­al — https://outrightinternational.org/ 

Unit­ed King­dom LGBTQ+ Rights Organizations:

·         Stonewall UK — https://www.stonewall.org.uk/ 

·         Mer­maids UK (sup­port­ing trans­gen­der youth) — https://mermaidsuk.org.uk/ 

·         Press for Change (legal rights for trans­gen­der indi­vid­u­als) — http://www.pfc.org.uk/ 

Unit­ed States LGBTQ+ Rights Organizations:

·         Human Rights Cam­paign — https://www.hrc.org/ 

·         Nation­al Cen­ter for Trans­gen­der Equal­i­ty — https://transequality.org/ 

·         Lamb­da Legal — https://www.lambdalegal.org/ 

·         The Trevor Project (sup­port­ing LGBTQ+ youth) — https://www.thetrevorproject.org/ 

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